Friday, August 29, 2008

without a title

I sit. I type. Distracted by movement outside the window, I look. I am mesmerized, then filled with warmth and love. The three of you, cousins, having a blast on the last weekend of summer. Riding bikes in bathing suits, splashing in the pool, playing with the neighbor's dogs, creating a little house out of beach towels and folding chairs, chasing frogs and crickets. Watching you run back and forth across the yard unabashedly, full of exuberance.

To see the smiles and to hear the laughter makes me think of you. The innumerable memories I have of us playing in the backyard, fishing in the creek, playing kick the can, catching fireflies, playing in the mud, feet filthy from fresh, wet dirt, sweaty from the thick and sticky summer air.

I praise God that my girls have a cousin close in age whom they call a sister. I pray to God that they may know the closeness of sisters, the joy of being best friends, the confidence of always having someone at their side, supporting them. Please, God, let that be your will.

I wish you were here to see how they have grown to love each other, how their relationship mimics our own - not close to perfect, but never wavering in importance. I wish you were here to laugh at their comments, their jokes, their performances. I wish they could recall without a doubt of your unconditional love for them rather than relying on my verbal reminders. I wish...

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

In the Great State of Hannah Montanna

Right after dinner, I turned the tv on to find out what was going on with our weather. Still raining buckets. The tv was on CNN and the Democratic Convention. The convention was in the middle of doing the roll call of states. This process seems to be much longer every convention as each state brags about its attributes. It was Montana's turn. Sadie asked me what I was watching. I prefaced my answer by saying, "It is very complicated, but I am going to explain it once. You will not be allowed questions and you may not ask me to repeat myself." I know I sound terrible, but if you knew my children, you would call me smart. We have spent HOURS talking about the new bridge they are replacing on a road we frequent - repeating the same conversation, the same questions, the same comments.

I start the process of explaining things and Jay interrupts me to tell me that I am making it way too complicated and shouldn't even try for a 6 and 8 year old. I think, "Whatever." I should raise the bar high, right? I made it to my example at hand, Montana, and Lily (4) announced, "No, Mommy, it is Hannah Montana."

Maybe I should give that one to Jay.

You say tornado, I say...

I heard vague remarks about tornadic activity in the area today. However, I was a little surprised when the kids told me they were in tornado drill mode for over and hour today. The details were a little sketchy, but I think they were in the halls, hanging out, not doing much during lunch/recess time. What a nightmare for teachers. Anyway, the kids were talking about tornado this, tornado that. Lily piped up and said, "I don't see any tomatoes. There aren't any tomatoes." Ethan tried very hard to clearly say, no, Lily, it is tornado. She just didn't get it.

A couple of tornadoes were in the area, very light on damage, no one injured. We have gotten a ton of rain. It has been since I have seen this much rain. I have forgotten what it is like to get wet! We lost power for a few hours as well. Thank God for generators! Hopefully, this will alleviate some of the drought conditions we have been experiencing for what seems like years.

The Oil Press

When working through some of my thoughts and emotions mentioned in my previous blog, God led me to the passage of Jesus praying in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is so incredibly appropriate that I felt it necessary to comment on it.

Matthew 26:36-44
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to His disciples, "Sit here while I go over there and pray." And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and began to be grieved and distressed. Then He said to them, "My soul is deeply grieved, to the point of death; remain here and keep watch with Me." And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, "My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as Thou wilt." And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, "So, you men could not keep watch with Me for one hour? "Keep watching and praying, that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak." He went away again a second time and prayed, saying, "My Father, if this cannot pass away unless I drink it, Thy will be done." And again He came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. And He left them again, and went away and prayed a third time, saying the same thing once more....

I did not know that Gethsemane aptly means "Oil Press." Of course, knowing you might have breast cancer is really not comparable to knowing for sure you are going to be crucified, but I still wanted to examine what was Jesus feeling, what was his attitude?

He was grieved.
He was distressed.
It was not his will, not his choice - he wished another.
A little aggravated at his friends, perhaps?
Finally, clearly he was spiritually willing to take on God's will for him, but his body (flesh) maybe wasn't so willing.

Looking at my reaction to my procedures, I can say:

I was grieved.
I was distressed.
I wished the result to be benign.
I was aggravated that I had to wait until Monday for results.
If this was my lot, I was, of course, willing to accept it, faithfully knowing God would have a purpose in it and would grow me through it. But, when I thought about the physical parts of what I might endure, I wasn't so willing.

Hmpf. Maybe I wasn't so off the mark after all. Thanks for the revelation, God.

Friday, August 22, 2008

Personal Pain

So, I wasn't doing nearly as well as I thought I was with the prospects of being diagnosed with breast cancer (of any form). I have this ridiculous paranoia that when I speak of my fears and angers that I am not trusting God. How many times have I encouraged someone to, "just trust God," to take care of them. Although I informed my friends of my situation, my response was "it will be what it will be." I even tried to laugh it off with the thought of getting an upgrade. However, the reality of what was going on inside of me was apparent as Monday drew closer.

For some poorly thought-out reason (or actually no thought given), I drove Jay and my mom to my Monday appointment. That was not a good idea. I could hardly focus on driving, my speeds were really out of control and I fretted the entire way that we were late. My heart was racing, my stomach churning and I can not begin to tell you what the mundane car chatter was about. I was so tense, my shoulders and upper back carrying the load. I practically ran to the office, leaving my family behind. The waiting room was suffocating, I could not sit still. The "patient information room" was even worse. My stomach continued its roller coaster and I thought I might vomit. My head was spinning as the reality of what I faced seemed to keep smacking me. The doctor came in and introduced herself to all members of my party (mom, dad and Jay). To quote her, "I really believe we have nothing to worry about." I wanted clarification. "So, it is nothing?" My body almost folded in half. I flopped back on the sofa I was sitting upon. The bile still rising to my mouth. It was over. I was done. Was it really true? As I wrote earlier, the doctor confessed to me that she was very relieved. She did not expect the results I received (a fibrocystic condition that presented itself a little oddly). She was very worried. I will go back in 6 months for another follow-up.

The question is: If I truly believe that God takes care of me, if I trust Him completely, should my reaction have been so severe? I thought if I verbalized how I was really feeling, I would hear the same words that I have told to countless others - obvious, but not helpful words at the time. I would be labeled, perceived as weak spiritually. I would be seen as the boy who cried wolf, worrying over what was unfathomable. To write this is difficult, but I am laying it all out on the table. I know God is in control and He will take care of me, but that does little to minimize the stress and anxiety of what I know the journey of cancer to be. Shouldn't it be different?

Thursday, August 21, 2008

The first day of the rest of your life

Actually, I have always hated that that line - tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life. Like somehow every thing prior to that has been erased. Anyway, it just was too perfect of a title for this post considering it encompasses first days school, my medical journey (like there haven't been enough posts on that this year) and today (which was yesterday's first day of the rest of my life, right?).

The first day for E and S was on Tuesday. Their attitudes were fairly positive - S more than E. We are working on new routines this year - alarm clocks, preparations the night before, more responsibilities with supplies, etc. As I posted last year about the first of school, Sadie has refused to wear the cute plaid jumpers with peter pan colors. Therefore, when cleaning out drawers, I packed all that up in a tub for Lily. Imagine my complete, near pass-out shock when Sadie said she wanted to wear a jumper on the first day. O-kkkk. Out came the tub and a jumper. I pulled out some polo shirts for her to choose from for under the jumper. Her response: No, mom, you wear those round colored shirts. Don't we have some of those? Out came the tub...again. She was pretty pleased with wearing it, along with her pink converse low-tops. She came home happy and excited about her year - along with the discipline process which involves money (possibly her love language?)

Ethan headed off fine, but came home in a bit of a mood. A friend that was on the original class list from school was evidently switched last minute and so that brought a bit of disappointment. He is not really one for new situations and I think he just needs a little more time. My efforts at growing him with a self-worth measured only by God is certainly being tested already this year. Comparisons to others is starting and his desire to be included concerns me. I just need to pray a little more fervently, though I think a lot of this must be learned through experience. And maybe, just maybe I am more sensitive to this because it plagued me so much in my youth. I did not know God. I had no measure except for the world. I believe that my history would be vastly different had I a different set of glasses through which to see my environment. Oh, and it should be mentioned that E already misplaced his jacket and forgot one assignment at home and this is just day 3. Pray for us.

Lily is lost. It doesn't help that we have been separated some this week because of work. She is very clingy and it hurts my heart. I realized today that she has never really been apart from me. If she has, it has almost always included E and S (her own unique Linus blanket). She is becoming aware of herself, the world and her place in it. It is a little perplexing to me because her head knowledge is so advanced, but the awareness of her environment, etc. seems to lag. On the other hand, she is so social, making friends wherever she goes. She is more than ready to start school which begins after Labor Day. We are still teetering in the balance of nap/no nap land. So tough to let that one go and deal with come crankiness late in the afternoon.

I just put them to bed. Lily was almost asleep before I officially tucked her in. These early mornings and varying schedules must be taking its toll.

I am still groping, blindly, through my days. This whole work thing/mom thing/wife thing is still completely unpredictable. I had a revelation during the last few weeks:

I like predictability and stability. I do not handle change well.

There, I said it. Gone are the carefree days of my college and my young adult life. I am not the person I was in my early 20s (but who is?). I never thought I would morph into a set in my ways kind of gal. I mean, I hitchhiked/backpacked through Africa for Pete's sake. Of course, I shudder at that thought now. But, to admit this change has taken place is tough. I am sure most of this is a natural progression. Children, economic responsibilities limit your choices, right? Stability is good, right? I feel like I am trying to convince myself. I should stop. Admitting it is half the battle. I made a good start tonight.

Monday, August 18, 2008

whoooooo hooooooooo!

Great news - if you didn't already figure it out from the title. I have a benign condition called fibrocystic something. Most women get it in their lifetime. Mine presented itself a little differently and was only on one side. The doctor said she was extremely relieved, because she was expecting much different results. (confirmed that my mom and I were reading her correctly). So, I will get a MRI in 6 months to make sure all is normal and no more areas of growth. Zippy! Now, on to figuring out why my cycle is so out of whack - 2 weeks here, 3 weeks there. Here's hoping to 28 days this month!

I have much more to write about this - things I have gleaned, etc. But, I am making a great, homemade meal for my family to celebrate! I will try to get more down in the next week.